


I'll Find Myself Anew

by secretfeanorian



Series: We, The Voyagers [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretfeanorian/pseuds/secretfeanorian
Summary: The cold air bites at Kei’tlya’s exposed cheeks, but she barely registers the feeling. She feels as if she’s been standing outside for both an eternity and hardly any time at all. Her thoughts, once whirling around in an angry cesspool of disquiet, have calmed to some degree, but something deep within her still feels shivered out of its proper place.





	I'll Find Myself Anew

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted mushy shit, so I wrote mushy shit. Merry Christmas to me :3
> 
> ngl, I didn't actually mean to post this, but now I'm too lazy to delete it and redraft it so here's an unedited mess (more so than usual).

The cold air bites at Kei’tlya’s exposed cheeks, but she barely registers the feeling. She feels as if she’s been standing outside for both an eternity and hardly any time at all. Her thoughts, once whirling around in an angry cesspool of disquiet, have calmed to some degree, but something deep within her still feels shivered out of its proper place.  
  
Lost in thought, she doesn’t hear the feet crunching through the snow toward her. The presence behind her doesn’t register until they reach toward her. She flinches minutely, caught off guard, and turns her head to face her companion.  
  
Arcann is watching her closely, the emotion in his eyes difficult to discern. She doesn’t smile at him, but some of the tension in her shoulders eases. Emboldened by the calm he can doubtless sense from her, he puts an arm around her. He doesn’t pull her in, but Kei’tlya feels a new wave of exhaustion roll over her and she leans against him. She expects him to stand silently beside her and is caught off guard when she hears him ask something. He can feel her confusion before she can ask for clarification and repeats himself, “Are you doing alright?”  
  
For a heartbeat, Kei’tlya stands there without a response, letting his concern wash over her. The question is an impossible one to answer at the best of times and she isn’t sure how to try. As that heartbeat passes, he seems to realize this and shifts from one foot to the other. A smile creeps across her face and she pulls away from him to look at his. He’s begun to chew on his lip, a nervous tick the back of her mind can’t help but find adorable. She cups the scarred half of his face and stands there like that until he meets her eyes. “Better now,” She whispers when he does.  
  
A shy smiles makes its way onto his face and she feels his arms comes up to wrap around her. Her other arm reaches up to cup the unscarred half of his face and she pulls him forward until their foreheads rest against each other.  
  
Wrapped around him, she feels it the second he starts to tremble and pulls him closer still. His mind is closed to her at the moment, but that doesn’t stop her from knowing what must be racing through his thoughts. No response she has ever been able to think of has ever felt adequate to reassure him, so instead she just holds him.  
  
Several long minutes pass, but when Arcann’s shaking continues with no signs of stopping, Kei’tlya pulls back and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Knock it off,” She says, her voice barely loud enough to be heard.  
  
For the space of a breath, Arcann seems to be ignoring her, but right as she opens her mouth to continue, he pulls her into a kiss. She smiles against his lips and before long, she feels him smile too, the scarred portion of his lips rubbing against hers.  
  
Against his warmth, the cold air seems far colder than it had before and she shivers. When they pull apart, there’s a distantly happy look on his face that Kei’tlya knows has to be reflected on her own.  
  
Arcann’s flesh hand brushes the ridges on her forehead. The gesture feels deeply and almost overwhelmingly intimate, something she never would’ve allowed only a few years ago. Now, though, the incursion into her personal space is both expected and welcome. Every nerve in her body that had once shied away from contact shifts itself to welcome his touch. Even as the thought crosses her mind, she is pushing it away. She has learned that such feelings are dangerous, but still…she welcomes them. The irony of their situation is not lost on her, never has been, but practically everything he does increases those volatile feelings tenfold. The thought should send her into a panicked frenzy, but instead something deep inside her…settles.  
  
Arcann is tracing the pathways of ridging along her forehead, the half-smile still gracing his face, and she thinks she’s in love with the sight. The words bubble up, but stick in her throat. She doesn’t trust her hands to move up without shaking, so she just stands there, soaking in his closeness. Her eyes start to slide shut in contentment. Suddenly, she feels his hands slide down and take hold of hers. She opens her eyes to meet his again.  
  
“Can we go back inside?” He asks and she laughs.  
  
“Sure, I’m freezing.”  
  
Arcann’s cybernetic hand lets go of her, but his right hand holds tight to her left and they walk back inside hand in hand. The room they enter has mostly emptied, but there are still a few people lingering and Kei’tlya feels Arcann release her hand. Spurred by a sudden burst of stubbornness, she doesn’t let go of his in turn and adopts a challenging expression in case anyone thinks about starting something.  
  
Whether for that reason or some other, no one says anything to either of them and they pass out into the hallway without an incident. She can sense some unnamable emotion radiating off of Arcann and squeezes his hand tighter, possessive. She’s spent enough of her life hiding enough things.  
  
When they reach her quarters, he hesitates for a heartbeat, but follows her in when she doesn’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t require additional persuading. It’s not until the door is shut firmly behind them that she finally lets go. She feels his eyes on her, but can’t bring herself to turn and face him. “Kei,” She hears and then there are hands on her shoulders. He tugs on her just ever so slightly and she offers no resistance.  
  
She feels a sudden burst of courage flood her veins. Before she can second guess herself again, she reaches up to grab his neck. “Fuck, I love you.” She breathes out in a rush, before the lump in her throat can block the words again.  
  
Arcann breathes in, once, and then it seems to stick in his lungs. His body freezes up. Kei’tlya barely breathes either; waiting. She stares straight ahead at the collar of his shirt, unable to look at his face in this moment.  
  
Several, agonizingly long moments pass, then she hears Arcann breathe out. The breath is uneven, pausing and shaking. He’s clearly trying to stabilize his breathing, but the next breath he takes in is just as shaky, and the next, until finally he lets out one, loud exhale and his head falls against her shoulder. She jumps, not having expected the weight, but when she feels him tense up to lift his head again, she grabs at the back of it and holds him tight. He freezes, but almost immediately the tension bleeds out. He grabs at the back of her shirt and _clings_.  
  
Kei’tlya feels almost pinned down by the moment, by the tension hanging in the air, and wants it to break, but at the same time can’t bring herself to move even an inch; like moving in this second would break something that she desperately does not want to be broken. They stand there, clinging to each other, until the sound of voices passing by from out in the hallway breaks the silence.  
  
When Arcann lifts his head this time, she lets him go. There are tears running down his cheeks and the expression on his face is borderline worshipful, for all that she hates to think of it that way. She can practically see the words of his response sticking to his throat in turn.  
  
What finally escapes his mouth is a hushed “I have done nothing in my life to deserve this”, the tremor in his voice betraying just how close he is to bursting into tears.  
  
Rage and grief war inside Kei’tlya, but instead of speaking, she silently wipes the tears from his cheeks and hugs him tight again.  
  
“I love you,” He whispers into her shoulder, frantic and longing, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”  
  
With every heartbeat, Kei’tlya feels more and more unsteady on her feet and she finally gives in and pulls Arcann over to one of the couches. They stumble over each other a bit, but eventually settle into a semi-coherent heap of limbs wrapped around each other.  
  
She thinks there is something she should say; some conversation they should be having, but the moment they’ve found themselves feels far too fragile to risk it by opening her mouth. She presses close to Arcann’s side and wraps her arms around his neck. She almost wants to trail kisses along his neck, but that seems too bold and she’s been bold enough today.  
  
At almost the exact same second that thought crosses her mind, the wave of stubbornness from earlier returns and she presses a kiss against Arcann’s collarbone before she can rethink the gesture. She expects him to tense up in surprise again, and is surprised when instead he starts to laugh and then squeezes her, as if to reassure her he’s not mocking her.  
  
Once the laughter subsides, he starts to run his hand along her face again, a desperately fond look in his eyes. Kei’tlya settles against his side and mentally uncoils.

**Author's Note:**

> *throws fic away from myself at high velocity* there, it's good enough. I wash my hands of it.
> 
> Maybe it'll get edited later. Maybe not. You know the drill.


End file.
